Tales from the New York Institute
by chocolatecatsconfusion
Summary: **Set in 2012 after the events of City of Heavenly Fire, Lady Midnight & Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy** The New York Institute welcomes 5 new Shadowhunter children to live there and undergo training. Clary, Jace, Simon and Isabelle and others will help them settle in as well as manage their own personal lives, as they also prepare for Isabelle and Simon's upcoming wedding.
1. Chapter 1: Change

*Ping*  
*Ping*  
*Ping*

Clary looked over from her sketchbook to her phone to find 3 new frantic texts from Isabelle. Simon would be arriving in less than an hour with 5 of the newest members of the New York Institute and Isabelle had been a whirlwind of energy and excitement all week, cleaning and preparing the spare bedrooms of the institute for the arrival of the new Nephilim children.

There had been a request from the Clave sent to every single Institute worldwide asking them to take in orphaned children from Idris who had lost their parents in the Dark War, as well as the newly ascended Shadowhunter children from the Academy in need of homes. Most of them had been orphans in their previous Mundane lives. The decision to take in the children was met with some disapproval from Jace and Alec, who weren't keen on the extra responsibility or thought of strangers taking over their home. Clary had been quick to remind Jace that he wasn't the only one in charge; they ran the Institute together now. She had simply looked at Alec and asked, "Aren't you basically living with Magnus now anyway?" to which he had turned a deep shade of red and said nothing more.

Sighing, Clary picked up the phone and opened Izzy's texts.

 **11:01 am  
LESS THAN AN HOUR**

 **11:03 am  
THAT LIBRARY BETTER BE CLEAN**

 **11:10 am  
You cleaned it right?...**

Oops. She had totally forgotten about Isabelle's chore list and had spent the past couple of hours sketching instead.  
She tapped on the text box to reply and, as if Isabelle had read her thoughts, a new message popped up.

 **11:15 am  
Oh by the Angel, I'll do it myself!**

Quite frankly, Clary didn't see how the library could get much cleaner. It was already immaculate. Jace never let anything fall out of place. She sensed it was just Izzy's excitement getting her all worked up.

When she had shared the Clave's request with everyone else, she'd expected some animosity towards the idea of opening up their home to strangers. The New York Institute had taken in other Shadowhunters in the past, but only on a temporary basis. This was, as far as Clary could tell, going to be a very permanent situation – so she had been stunned when Isabelle stepped forward in full support of the idea. Clary noted she wasn't the only surprised one in the room as Alec, Simon and Jace's jaws had all dropped simultaneously at Izzy's enthusiasm. After all, Isabelle Lightwood didn't exactly have a good track record when it came to being friendly or accommodating to strangers. Last time she had tried to do so, Simon had been turned into a rat and kidnapped by vampires. Clary sensed this change in attitude had something to do with Max.

There was a knock at the door and Jace entered looking vexed.  
"Why Simon wants to marry that woman is beyond me." he took a seat beside Clary on the bed, grumbling under his breath. She caught the words _lunatic_ and _compulsive_ as he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his jacket and handed it to her. It was a list the Clave had sent them a few weeks back with the names and information of the children they'd be taking in.

 _Vivienne Bellefleur, 14  
Date of Birth: September 21  
Birthplace: Annecy, France_

 _Dominic Alderwell, 13  
Date of Birth: June 30  
Birthplace: Alicante, Idris_

 _Nathaniel Fairweather, 15  
Date of Birth: May 16  
Birthplace: Alicante, Idris_

 _Penelope Fairweather, 11  
Date of Birth: March 6  
Birthplace: Alicante, Idris_

 _Eleanor Arkwright, 15  
Date of Birth: January 4  
Birthplace: London, England_

Clary knew the Nephilim didn't recognize the term 'teenagers', though she'd wished they did upon opening the letter when it had first arrived at the institute. She had agreed to what she had thought were 5 small innocent children, not 5 angst-ridden teenagers. How would she be able to handle them when some days she still felt like one herself?

The doorbell of Institute sounded and the sound of Isabelle's footsteps came rushing towards them from down the hallway. She didn't bother knocking and threw the door open, looking breathless with her black hair in disarray.

"They're here." __


	2. Chapter 2: Introductions

By the time they had reached the elevator, it was already on its way up. Clary turned to look at Isabelle who had her eyes glued to the door. She wondered what it was that had her so excited. Perhaps it was just because her fiancé was finally back. Simon had been gone nearly a month, traveling the world, recruiting mundanes for the academy, so it definitely made sense that Izzy would be excited to have him back so they could get on with the wedding planning. Yet, she had really wanted the kids to be allowed to stay here. It just didn't add up in Clary's head.  
She looked over at Jace who, at that moment, looked ruffled and irritable. Isabelle had tried fixing his hair on their way down the hall, only for him to swat at her like Church swatting away a fly. He wasn't keen on the extra additions to the Institute, but he had still been there for Clary every step of the way.  
She reached for his hand and watched, with some relief, as his expression softened and he laced his fingers through hers in response.

The doors opened and the group stepped out of the elevator; Simon and Catarina Loss ahead of the children. Simon looked happy enough but the look on Catarina's face said she'd rather be lying in a ditch somewhere than in the New York Institute surrounded by Shadowhunters.  
Almost at once, a girl with long dark hair came forward scanning the room. Her gaze landed on Isabelle and a smile spread across her face.  
"Izzy!" She ran to Isabelle who, to the surprise of everyone there, opened her arms and embraced the girl.  
"Viv, you made it!" She gave the girl an extra squeeze then turned to face the group. Her radiant smile was met with several puzzled expressions, save for Catarina who looked mildly amused.  
"And here I thought your constant visits were solely for the Dayligh- Simon, sorry, old habit." Catarina corrected herself with a chuckle as Simon cleared his throat and glared in her direction.

"As you all know, I've spent a lot of time at the Academy assisting with training. I was asked to work with the mundane students especially." Isabelle paused and looked down at the girl with a look of fierce pride. "This girl has been one of my best students for the last 2 years. She has come so far."  
"I had the best teacher." Vivienne gazed adoringly up at Isabelle. Clary smirked; adoration was something Isabelle wasn't unfamiliar with.  
"I've actually worked extensively with all of them," Isabelle gestured to the other children standing there who, Clary noted, looked rather uncomfortable now. "I made sure I handpicked the best of the best to stay with us at the Institute. I've taught them almost everything I know. They're like my little disciples."  
"I'm sorry," Jace's golden eyes flashed with amusement. "Are you comparing yourself to Jesus?"  
Isabelle, ignoring him, turned and waved the others forward.

"I'd like to properly introduce you to – well you just met her – Vivienne Bellefleur." The dark haired girl, Vivienne, stepped forward again with a broad, confident smile. She looked very much like Isabelle: tall, slim, long dark hair and pale opalescent skin. The only differences were some facial features including her eyes, which were a brilliant violet colour, and her accent, which Clary guessed was French. The two girls could be mistaken for sisters. "Vivienne grew up in Annecy, France and attended the academy in the dre- mundane track." Catarina's eyebrows shot up at Isabelle's slip up while Vivienne blushed.

"And this," Isabelle, ignoring the looks the others gave her, moved over to a tall, brown haired boy who did not smile. "Is Dominic Alderwell, from the Alderwell family of Shadowhunters."  
Clary recognized the surname immediately. Warren Alderwell, Dominic's father, had been one of the many unfortunate Shadowhunters to be turned into one of Sebastian's evil soldiers. During the battle, Dominic had watched his father murder both his mother and older sister right in front of him. He had only been eight years old at the time.

Dominic inclined his head ever so slightly in greeting, but remained silent. His eyes were difficult to get a look at as he kept his head down, but they appeared to be something between green and hazel. His hair – the colour of dark chocolate – was wavy and in need of a trim as it flopped over his eyes. He was very tall for his age, Clary noticed. He had to be close to six feet.  
"Dom was the fastest runner at the academy." Isabelle clapped one hand on the boys shoulder proudly. "He has lightning fast reflexes and great potential with a sword."  
Dominic said nothing, though Clary noticed him flush a bit under his summer tan.

The next boy stepped forward holding hands with a smaller girl who looked very much like him. _Siblings_ Clary thought.  
"This is Nathaniel Fairweather and his sister Penelope."  
The Fairweather's were another well-known Shadowhunter family also broken by war. Zander Fairweather, their father, had been killed just outside his doorstep in Alicante when Valentine first flooded the city with demons. No one had been prepared for the invasion and he had been unable to fight back without gear or weapons. Their mother, Octavia, had been killed by a faerie knight while defending her children during Sebastian's attack on the Accords Hall.

"Penelope will be starting her training here at the Institute as she did not wish to attend the Academy." Isabelle smiled down at the girl. She was small for her age with a waif-like look to her; big icy blue eyes and a petite frame. Her hair tumbled down her back in long golden curls. She looked more like a faerie princess than a Shadowhunter, Clary couldn't help but think.  
Her brother shared the same loosely curled golden hair and startling eye colour but unlike his sister, he was quite tall and well-muscled.  
"Nathaniel has huge potential," Isabelle beamed at the boy who returned the smile. "He is great in combat, highly skilled with most weapons and doesn't do too bad with the ladies either." Isabelle added, winking at the boy who smiled but shifted uncomfortably. Another girl who had been standing to the right of him snorted and he shot her a dark look.

The girl who had snorted stepped forward now, not waiting for Isabelle's introduction.  
"My name is Eleanor Arkwright. I was a mundane before I drank from the Mortal Cup." She spoke with what could only be described as a posh British accent. "I would prefer being called Ellie." She smiled politely then stepped back in line with the others. Isabelle looked put out from having her introduction taken away but continued nonetheless.  
"Before Ellie was recruited for the academy, she was trained in jujutsu and was skilled in archery. She also took a great interest in studying runes while at the Academy. She joins us from London, England."  
Ellie continued to smile. She had the appearance of someone who was very put together in all aspects of life. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a neat French braid and she wore a crisp emerald green sweater and dark tight fitting jeans with simple black ballet flats. She had fair skin with some slightly Asian features. Clary had read her file before their arrival; her mother was Tibetan and her father British. Her father's file said he had been strawberry blonde with freckles and green eyes. Clary saw that now mixed in with the Asian features on the girls face. She had a very attractive exotic look to her, Clary noticed with a sting of envy. She had smooth somewhat pale skin with the Asian undertones, a very light dusting of freckles across her nose and hazel eyes that had something of an almond shape to them.  
Eleanor's parents had died in a house fire a few months before she was recruited for the Academy, but no trace of them had been found in the remains of the house. No bones or even ashes to identify them. Ellie's file had been larger than the rest but Clary hadn't bothered to read the whole thing before. Now she thought it might be worth taking another look at.

Jace stepped forward, breaking Clary out of her reverie.  
"It's a pleasure to meet you all. Welcome to the New York Institute. My name is Jace Herondale and I run this institute with my partner Clarissa Fairchild." Jace placed his arm gently around Clary as he spoke.  
"You can call me Clary." Clary gave the group a warm smile. "You'll have a couple days to get settled in and explore the city a bit before your new tutor arrives. If you have any questions, feel free to ask Jace, Isabelle, Simon or I."  
"You better get them moving to their rooms before Miss Lightwood explodes." Added Catarina dryly, eyeing Isabelle who was already edging down the hall.  
"Izzy will show you to your rooms." Jace gestured for them to follow Isabelle and they scurried after her carrying whatever luggage they had brought – which, Clary noted sadly, was not much at all.  
Jace chuckled at the sight of Isabelle leading the children away and turned to Clary, keeping his arm wrapped around her.  
"And so it begins."


	3. Chapter 3: Friends

After showing Catarina out, Simon grabbed his luggage and made his way to the room Isabelle and him shared. It was still weird – even after a couple of years – the idea of him having a room here.  
Of course, he spent maybe 2-3 months a year actually living in the institute. The rest were spent working at the Academy or abroad recruiting for the Academy.  
It had been an issue with Isabelle at first but she eventually managed to get herself a tutoring position there to be near Simon as well as keep herself busy. To everyone's great surprise, Isabelle turned out to be a pretty good tutor. She wasn't exactly known for being patient with beginners nor was she ever one to sugar coat things, but she knew her stuff and was making vast improvements in the patience department. What's more is that she actually seemed to be enjoying herself working with the children and they seemed to really enjoy her company – and not just the boys who goggled at her 24/7.

Simon was happy to have a semester off from the Academy. As much as he'd grown to –somehow – love the place with its questionable food and rat infested corridors, he was also happy to have his clean room and caffeine back again.

He opened the bedroom door and gasped.  
 _Did I say clean room?  
_ Isabelle's dresses, boots, makeup – basically every item Isabelle owned – seemed to be strewn all over the bed, floor, vanity and even the lamp in the corner of the room.  
There was a crash from the closet and some colourful swearing to follow.  
Isabelle emerged looking vexed. She plowed her way through the mess to where Simon stood, stunned.  
"Damn, you're here already. I was hoping to get this mess sorted before you arrived."  
"Iz, what _happened_?" Simon dropped his suitcase with a thud. "It looks like a bomb dropped in here."  
"Well, y'know…" She shrugged sheepishly. "I've been back in New York since the semester ended and I wanted to move some more of my stuff into our room because it's – well, our room."  
" _Some_ of your stuff?" Simon asked, eyebrows raised.  
"Are you going to help me clean this up or not?" She asked irritably, though her mouth quirked up ever so slightly at the corner.  
"You know I will, Iz." Simon sighed.  
Smiling now, she laced her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his.  
"And that's why I'm marrying you."

_

Eleanor collapsed on her bed with a sigh.  
After they had been shown their rooms, the younger Shadowhunter's had had a few hours to unpack and relax before dinner. When they had finished eating, they'd been given a tour of the institute. This turned out to be a rather lengthy task as the institute has hundreds of rooms. They managed to find their way back to their bedrooms sometime after midnight.  
They had been woken bright and early this morning for a tour of New York City. Simon and Clary were great tour guides but it had been hard to stay focused on the tour with so little sleep.  
She wasn't the only one who'd had a rough night, she'd noticed. The others had had dark circles under their eyes and Penelope had fallen asleep against Nate's shoulder on the cab ride home.

Scattered around Ellie on the bed were all her shopping bags filled with souvenirs from various tourist shops and clothes from their stop at Macy's. The Institute had set up a biweekly allowance for each of them so that they could purchase anything they may need.  
Clothes had been at the top of Ellie's list. Most of hers had burned away in the fire.  
She looked over at her large, shabby brown suitcase. One of the front zippers had melted off in the fire and the rats at the Academy had chewed one or two holes in it, yet she found herself unable to throw it away. There were years of precious memories, both good and bad, attached to it.  
The suitcase had been the first thing she grabbed out of the back of her closet when she first noticed the fire. She had managed to save some important items such as jewelry, her laptop, a photo album, her diary, a few of her favourite books, her wallet, a rather expensive coat and whatever clothes she could grab with the time she had left. _I'm still impressed I managed to grab as much as I did._

With a sigh, she lay back against her pillow bumping her elbow on something soft. She picked up the stuffed cat sitting beside her on the bed.  
 _Cleo._  
Cleo had been a present from Ellie's parents on her 3rd birthday. It was the first item she saved during the fire. Even after all these years, the cat was still a soft white with its lavender coloured bow still intact around its neck. Unlike the suitcase, the cat had only good memories attached to it.

"Why are you petting a stuffed cat?"

Ellie dropped the cat in surprise and spun around, coming face to face with Nathaniel Fairweather.  
"How did you get in here so quietly?" She demanded with a dark look. Nathaniel was the last person she wanted to see at this moment.  
"You wouldn't understand." He picked up the cat, examining it with a sly grin. "Only true Shadowhunters can achieve that level of stealth."  
"Oh, honestly!" Ellie snatched the cat out of his hands with alarming speed and scowled at him. "Would you just STOP with this holier than thou rubbish you insist on spewing every time I'm near?"  
Nathaniel Fairweather came from an affluent Nephilim family and had been reminding Eleanor about it for the past two years.  
"Hey," He smirked, raising his hands in mock defense. "You asked a question and I answered it."

Despite being a mundane during her time at the Academy, Eleanor had quickly risen to the top of her class. Unfortunately, being a top student in the mundane class meant spending more time with the Shadowhunter 'elite' class, which meant more time spent with Nathaniel. He was one of those people who seemed to glide through life without ever having to lift a finger, and whenever they did lift a finger, they did it better than anyone else. Nothing affected him, and it drove her crazy.  
While she wasn't sure about his father; Ellie had heard about his mother's death from other students at the Academy. Nathaniel and Penelope had both been there when their mother was killed. She had died a gruesome death, sliced to ribbons by a Faerie knight, while her young children stood there frozen and weaponless, unable to save her. There were many similar deaths during the battle, but being a well-known and well respected figure in the Nephilim world; news of Octavia Fairweather's death spread like wildfire throughout the community.

While Penelope made no effort to hide her sadness, her brother was a closed book. Every time Ellie saw him, he looked anything but sad; always smiling, laughing or joking around with his friends. He would strut around the Academy like he owned the place; teasing the mundanes, flirting with the girls and charming the teachers. It was as though nothing bad had ever happened. His nonchalant attitude and arrogance made it rather difficult for Ellie to continue feeling sorry for him.

"My mistake," Ellie rolled her eyes. "It won't happen again."  
Nathaniel chuckled, crossing a leg underneath him as he sat down across from her on the bed.  
"What do you want anyway, Nathaniel?" She asked warily.  
Surely not the pleasure of her company; the two of them had a rather lousy track record for getting along.  
"Please call me Nate. No one under the age of forty calls me Nathaniel. And besides," He smiled, shifting ever so slightly towards her. "I think it's time we called a truce."  
 _A truce?_  
He chuckled again at her puzzled expression. "I think we should try to be friends from now on. I mean, we're living together now and we'll be training together…" he trailed off, watching her carefully.  
 _Friends? Really?  
_ "Friends?!" Ellie snorted. "A few months ago, you probably wouldn't even have cared if I survived the Mortal Cup or not. Now we're supposed to be best buds?"  
The look that flashed across Nate's face was only there for a split second, but Ellie saw it.  
 _Hurt.  
But why? _  
It was gone now and replaced with the same smile he wore before.  
"Have it your way," He stood up. "I'll win you over one day"  
In the blink of an eye, he was across the room and out the door; leaving Ellie alone once again.


	4. Chapter 4: Ocean's Apart

**[Author's Note: Sorry, this one is a little short. I wanted to write more but I also realize I haven't been publishing as much as I should. I promise to work on that and make the next few chapters longer]**

 **[Also, I plan to do a lot of OC stories but I will definitely try to get more Sizzy and Clace action in here as well]**

_

"What are you still doing up?"  
Penelope looked up from her pile of clothes on the floor to see her older brother standing before her.  
His smile was warm and his voice was gentle, but his eyes were stormy. Penelope knew her brother better than anyone, and something had clearly upset him. He, of course, would never tell her what it was. Nate was just like that; always keeping things to himself, carrying the burden so she wouldn't have to.  
Since their parent's death, he had been a rock for her. He was strong and dependable; never faltering. It was frustrating though; Penelope could easily read her brothers eyes and movements, but his thoughts were locked away in a place far beyond her reach. It was strange how they could be so close, yet so distant.  
"Just unpacking the rest of my clothes," She grabbed a floral skirt off the ground and started folding. "Where were you just now?" She watched his calm expression shift ever so slightly out of the corner of her eye.  
"I was just taking a stroll around the Institute." He sat down on the floor across from her, grabbing a white blouse from the pile.  
"Right." It was hard to keep the irritation out of her voice. She got up with a sigh, facing her brother.  
 _He'll never tell me what's on his mind, will he?  
_ "What, you don't believe me?" He had a look of amusement on his face, but there was a nervous edge in his voice.  
"No," She turned and strode towards the door. "Not anymore."

_

Clary sighed and plopped herself down on the bed. It had been a long day of touristy stuff, shopping and later on, file work.  
The file work wasn't supposed to take as long as it did but she had managed to entangle herself in the mystery that was Eleanor's massive file.  
Her parents had died in a fire, but not a trace of them had been found afterwards.  
"Well yeah," Simon had said when he was with her earlier helping her search. "They were probably burned to ashes and scattered to the wind."  
But the fire hadn't even lasted that long. According to news reports, the London fire department had arrived almost immediately. They had managed to douse the flames and salvage most of the house and its possessions.  
But Clary didn't tell Simon that. She had just sat there silently, staring at the article in her hands.  
Was it possible that Eleanor's parents might still be alive? And if so, why would they hide that from their daughter? Nothing added up.

Clary grabbed her sketchbook and pencils. Her mind was working a mile a minute.  
She wasn't even sure what she was drawing until the almond shaped eyes stood out to her on the page.  
Eleanor.


End file.
